"It wasn’t always so crowded up here. Used to be that the mists and clouds would pull apart like ginned cotton, the pure, dense white shredding in tendrils and snarls against the teeth of sunlight and sky. Beyond it the long arc of heaven and low line of earth met somewhere so far ahead it was a blur. The wind wild around you and the creak and roll of the boards beneath your feet was enough to make you walk to the edge, make you think about jumping out into that maddening air, smiling all the way down. It used to be that there was so much room."